Hemchandra was now settled in the garden house. And Mrinalini? Where was Mrinalini—exiled, tormented, helpless?

In the evening sky, the crimson clouds gradually shed their golden hue and took on a dusky shade. Under the night’s veil, bestowed by the goddess of darkness, the vast bosom of the Ganges became indistinct. Like rows of lamps lit by attendants in an assembly hall, or like the blossoms in a garden at dawn, the stars began to bloom in the sky. On the nearly dark river, the night breeze began to blow with a slightly harsher force. From this, as in a maiden’s heart when touched by her beloved, waves began to rise on the breast of the river. On the shore, the foam clusters formed by the impact of the waves seemed to weave garlands of white flowers. The murmur of the waves rose, like the clamor of many voices. The boatmen brought their boats close to the bank and began to make arrangements for resting through the night. Among them, a small dinghy separated itself from the others and came to rest at the mouth of a creek. The boatmen began to prepare their meal.

In the small boat were only two passengers. Both were women. It need not be told to the reader—these were Mrinalini and Girijaya.

Girijaya addressed Mrinalini, saying, “The day has passed.”

Mrinalini made no reply.

Girijaya spoke again, “Tomorrow will pass as well—and the day after too—” “Will it not pass—why should it not pass?”

Yet Mrinalini gave no answer; she only heaved a long sigh.

Girijaya said, “Mistress! What is this? What use is there in brooding day and night? If our coming to Nabadwip has not turned out well, then come, let us return even now.”

This time Mrinalini replied. She said, “Where shall we go?”

Gi. Let us go to Hrishikesh’s house.

Mr. Rather would I drown myself in these waters of the Ganges.

Gi. Then come, let us go to Mathura.

Mr. I have already told you, there is no place for me there. Like a fallen woman, I left my father’s house in the dead of night—how can I show my face there again?

Gi. But you did not come of your own will, nor with any evil intent. What harm is there in returning?

Mr. Who will believe that? In the house where I was cherished as an idol, how can I now remain, despised?

In the darkness, Girijaya could not see that tear after tear was falling from Mrinalini’s eyes. Girijaya said, “Then where will you go?”

Mr. Wherever I am going now.

Gi. That is a journey of happiness. Then why are you so restless? You are going to see the one you love to behold—what greater joy can there be than this?

Mr. In Nabadwip, I shall not meet Hemchandra.

Gi. Why? Is he not there?

Mr. He is there. But you know, he has taken a vow not to see me for a year. Shall